The Forgotten Rebellion
by bloodhunter88
Summary: A/U The first attempt is not always the last!
1. The Massacre

**Disclaimer: **Heck I couldn't get JKR to give me the rights to Harry even under the Imperius curse!! So I guess it's still hers! :(

**A/N: **This story takes place in the past, after the prophecy was made. It's my first full fledged work on FF so spare me the taunts. Read, review and help me improve! That'd be really great! Something I'd greatly appreciate! :)

**Chapter 1**

**The Massacre**

Lord Voldemort stood outside the gate, and paused for a moment. Today he was going to change the future. All that remained between him and his destiny was this simple gate enchanted with the foolish intruder alarm hex.

It was a sight that would send even the noblest hearts into a chilling frenzy – watching Voldemort stroking his pet Nagini gently with his right arm, while holding his wand in the other, standing still outside the desolated house. It was like watching death itself waiting in the courtyard.

Lord Voldemort hissed, and Nagini slid down underneath his robes. She made her way through the gate and went ahead to enter the house. Lord Voldemort followed suit. He disarmed the simple Hex without even needing to move his wand.

The door creaked and opened slowly. However the inhabitants of the house, a young magical couple and their baby, did not notice it. The father was busy playing with his son while the mother was using some spells in the kitchen to set the dinner table.

Lord Voldemort's wand protruded through the door, which was slightly ajar.

'_Avada Kedavra'_

A green light flashed and the father dropped dead. The baby fell from the hands of the dead father on to the floor and began wailing loudly. The mother instinctively ran into the hall, and was shell shocked.

'_Crucio'_

This spell struck to the heart of the mother. She fell limp too. The pain she felt was excruciating. But all she did was look at her baby who was on the floor, a few feet away from her, crying, as if he knew what was going on.

Lord Voldemort stepped in and moved towards the baby. He admired the beauty of the baby and toyed with his little arms. The mother watched with fear and pain as she realized who she was facing.

Lord Voldemort turned his attention to the mother who was still reeling under the Crucio spell. Her teary eyes met his cold glare. She knew that this person would feel no compassion. She prayed that it would get over soon.

However Lord Voldemort wasn't going to finish this quickly. This was his moment of triumph and he was going to savor every bit of it. He lifted his wand and hit her with another torture spell. Deep cuts appeared all over her body, causing her to bleed profusely. She tried to scream for help but found that even her tongue was slashed.

Then Voldemort bound her legs and suspended her upside down, in mid air. She could barely move her self. But she could see her baby and the dead body of her husband. But now she was shocked to see that her husband's dead body was being used as food by a large snake which was now slowly swallowing his arm.

It was a ghastly sight, and the mother now feared for her baby's life. Despite being in inexplicable suffering, she tried to look towards Lord Voldemort, to implore him to spare her child. But unfortunately for her, her pleas fell on deaf ears.

Lord Voldemort continued his torture ritual, keeping her just on the edge of her life, killing her bit by bit. Finally she succumbed to her injuries and died. Now, with the parents out of the way, Lord Voldemort walked towards the baby. Even the baby stopped wailing now, and had become silent.

He pointed his wand towards the baby's forehead. And then Voldemort smiled. The baby looked into the eyes of Voldemort, as if to embrace what is to come to him. Then there were a few minutes of silence.

'_Avada Kedavra.'_

Lord Voldemort stood solemnly, surrounded over by the two bodies and whatever pieces remained of the third. The job was done. He had successfully altered the prophecy. He had just killed Harry Potter.

**A/N: **I'm trying a new storyline here – something like a prequel to the HP series. Sorry I don't think there's scope for romance here. But maybe I may conjure up something soon! Please let me know what you think!


	2. A Scandalous Affair

**Disclaimer: **Heck I couldn't get JKR to give me the rights to Harry even under the Imperius curse!! So I guess it's still hers! :(

**Chapter 2**

**A Scandalous Affair**

_Three months before the prophecy_

A broad and well built man late in his thirties walked briskly towards the famous Café Leopold on Brooke's street. The café was spacious and had ambient lighting. It was designed for business meetings with ample room for privacy. However it turned out to be a hit amongst couples, young and old alike.

The man wearing a handsome satin colored suit entered the café, and took a quick glance inside. He then made his way and seated himself beside a beautiful woman, who was evidently awaiting his arrival. He glanced around once again and noticed that the café was relatively less crowded, something which would definitely work in his favour.

The woman said "Hello Wallace, I see that you still haven't gotten the courtesy to ask before you sit at someone's table."

Wallace smiled and replied, "You know me, Minerva. Some habits never change."

Minerva McGonagall wasn't in the mood to waste any time. As soon as he had sat down, she started her barrage of questions, "What's the meaning of all this? Why did you choose this muggle place for us to meet? You better give me a good reason as soon as possible, or I'll have no option but to leave."

Wallace couldn't keep the smile off his face. He knew about the fiery nature of the woman. Once she started on something, she didn't stop till she had all the answers. He tried to cool her down a bit, "Take it easy, Minerva."

She responded in a fierce tone, "There is no chance that's happening. You know I told you that I'd never meet you again, Wallace, and still you insisted on this meeting. You lost the chance to see my calm side once you chose to go into the service of that miserable excuse for a human being! You chose being a death eater over me, Wallace, and I will never forgive you for that."

Wallace cringed a bit on hearing the harsh words of the woman in front of him. He composed himself and stated, "But you are still here, aren't you? You have to admit it, Minerva; you can never stop loving me!"

Minerva responded in the same fierce tone, "Watch your mouth, Wallace! Don't flatter yourself too much. Now get on with what you have to say, and make it quick! I only came here because you said that it was very important!"

Even though she was angry, Wallace couldn't help but admire her. He still felt a deep connection with her. He knew that she too felt the same way.

However, he was also aware that now was not the time for him to think about his feelings for her. The time had come for him to let her know about the reason behind their meeting.

Wallace shifted a little towards Minerva and whispered, "Listen Minerva, I want to show you something."

Then Wallace folded the sleeve of his shirt and showed her his arm.

"Oh my god!" cried Minerva in shock. "It's gone. The mark … it's gone!"

Wallace appeared calm, "Yes Minerva. The mark is gone. And soon will the dark lord also be gone … forever! We are going to kill him Minerva; we are going to kill that bastard!"

There were a thousand questions running through Minerva's head. She couldn't control herself. She muttered out, "But … But how is that possible? He is too powerful. How can you possibly kill the greatest dark wizard of all time?"

Wallace simply replied, "I don't know. Nobody knows. But we will soon come up with something!"

On hearing this, Minerva composed herself and leaned back again, "Wallace, all this time that I have known you, I didn't even for once think that you were this dumb. So, you plan to kill him without having a plan… Is that what you're trying to tell me? Or is this some stupid game to get my attention?"

Wallace replied, "Minerva, I know that you can never forgive me for the way things ended between us. But you have to understand that this is no joke. It's really happening. There's already a large amount of dissent in the ranks of the Death Eaters. It's just a matter of time before we get a chance to make our move."

Minerva just stared blankly at him. Wallace continued, "Minerva, I know that you're finding it difficult to believe me. But whether you do believe me or not is immaterial. It is going to happen anyways. All I ask of you is to just this… please remember me as a good person … not the Death Eater, but the person who loved you."

McGonagall raised her eyebrows, "Why do you say that?" Although her face was impassionate, her pulse was racing. It was clear that she still loved him.

But Wallace didn't answer. He just took her palm and kissed it gently. His eyes met hers and she knew the answer to her question. She looked up to him. She wanted to say, "No … you don't have to do this!" but no words came from her mouth.

Both sat there in silence, reliving the past moments of their life and their relationship which had been amazing while it had lasted. Both sensed the same emotions at the same time. It couldn't end like this. It shouldn't end like this.

But after some time, Wallace started to move away. He had to leave his beloved now, for there were other pressing matters on hand. Besides that, if somebody spotted them together, there would be hell to pay.

Wallace got up and took Minerva's hand, "Just one more thing, darling"

Minerva just looked expectantly into his eyes.

Wallace paused for a moment when he saw her. But Wallace knew that it had to be done. He knew that she was to be set free of him and danger.

With a swish of the wand which he was holding below the table, the deed was done. No one noticed a thing. He let go of her hand and left the café. There was no turning back now.

Minerva sat there unable to move. She blinked her eyes unable to understand what had just happened.

The memory charm placed by Wallace had made her forget him forever.

**A/N:** I know that there's still a lot of ambiguity in the story so far. However, I would implore you to stick with me till the end, and you wouldn't be disappointed.

Special thanks to my beta reader, The Unusual Suspect.

I would love to get some feedback. Reviews would be most welcome!


	3. An Auror's Ordeal

**Disclaimer: **Heck I couldn't get JKR to give me the rights to Harry even under the Imperius curse!! So I guess it's still hers! :(

**A/N: **I have been a little late for this, because I was busy working on **The Power Triangle. **Please keep up with me. I know it's kind of mixed up and all, but the plot will make more sense as we progress!

**Chapter 3**

**An Auror's Ordeal**

_Two years before the prophecy_

Ignatius Prewett stood near his desk in his office. He was collecting all the papers and necessary items for the conference with the High Council of the Wizengamot.

He had to somehow convince the High Council to agree to his proposal; else it could lead to rather disastrous consequences. He was so busy preparing himself, both mentally and physically, that he failed to notice the visitor who had been standing in his office for some time now.

The Head of the Department of International Magical Co – operation, Thomas Macmillan, also the head of the Macmillan family, was following the actions of his friend closely.

Thomas spoke softly, "All ready, Ignatius?"

Ignatius turned with a start, "Huh? … Oh, it's you! When did you get here? Come again … what did you ask? Oh yeah … I'm ready! I guess …"

Thomas could clearly sense the nervous state of mind of the famed Auror. He knew that Ignatius was the best of his time, and had an unrivalled experience comparable only to a limited number of wizards.

It was such a strange irony, that the man who could single-handedly take out a dozen Death Eaters was behaving like a complete nervous wreck at the prospect of a Wizengamot meet.

Again Thomas spoke, "Ignatius, I know that you mean the well being of your people, but it wouldn't hurt you if you calmed down for a bit. Why don't you show me the demeanour of a person who wears the Dragon Sceptre Cross with pride?"

Ignatius looked at his childhood friend; the wise and calm Thomas. He always gave him support when he needed it. And it helped that he always found the right words.

The Dragon Sceptre Cross was a distinguished title given every three years to an Auror who had an outstanding record of fighting evil. It was one of the highest forms of Wizarding recognition, and at any given time, it could be bestowed upon only one person. Ignatius was proud of the fact that this was the third consecutive term of him being awarded the honour.

Ignatius pride swelled up once again, and all of his despair vanished into the thin air. With a very calculating air about him, he walked towards the door of his office. Before he left, he turned back and gave a nod to Thomas, to express his gratitude. Thomas shouted after him, "All the best!"

But Ignatius had already left.

The High Council of Wizengamot was a powerful clan of Wizards and Warlocks, who were seldom summoned, save only on special occasions. They usually dealt with magical wars and other dangerous situations involving use of dark magic. Ignatius had called for this meeting because he had a plan to fight the rising threat of the Death Eaters.

Assembled for the conference, were the Minister of Magic, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and other distinguished members from the High Families. Ignatius entered the great room with a composure that mirrored the High Council members.

"Honorary members of the High Council, I, Ignatius Prewett, Head Auror of the Magical Law Enforcement Department have summoned this meeting to address the council regarding the rising threat of wizards calling themselves the Death Eaters and their leader named as the Dark Lord."

The Council members looked towards Ignatius in anticipation. So he continued, "My lords, the person calling himself as the Dark Lord and his army of Death Eaters have openly flouted the Ministry norms on use of Magic. They have broken almost every conceivable law that we have. And of late, for the worse, they have started an unhindered usage of the Unforgivable Curses!"

The Council members were very well aware of the situation, so they said nothing. They were waiting for Ignatius to sell his plan to them.

"It is becoming increasingly difficult for the Magical Law Enforcers, namely the Aurors, to rise and stand up to this threat. Not only are we usually outnumbered before additional help arrives, but we are also outclassed because we are pitted against the deadliest of the dark arts."

"In view of the volatile situation, I propose that the Ministry and the Council sanction the formation of an elite group of warriors who will be responsible to tackle this threat."

Ignatius looked towards the Council members, waiting to see their response. However, nobody said anything. Ignatius was just about to begin continuing his plan when he was interrupted by a loud voice.

"Are you proposing that the Ministry go to war with these Death Eaters?"

Ignatius replied calmly, "These Death Eaters have already begun the war, Prof. Dumbledore."

But Dumbledore negated him and replied, "The situation has still not escalated to that point. I do believe that it is still in the stage that the Aurors can handle. There is no need …"

Before Dumbledore could continue, Ignatius interjected, "There, I'm afraid you are highly mistaken, Professor. Death Eaters have started going about a pattern of systematically targeting Muggle born wizards, torturing them to the brink of their life and then killing them using the Unforgivable Curses. For the past few weeks, I have gotten several reports on my desk about the massacre of Muggles, evidently carried out by these lunatics."

The Minister of Magic, sounding a little contemplative, spoke, "Define your plan, Auror Prewett."

Ignatius responded, "Thank you for the opportunity, Minister. This elite group of warrior wizards will be answerable only to you, the members of the High Council. They will be free to collect intelligence on the enemy operations by any means, including arrests without warrants, random searches, sweeping possible hideouts and acquisition of offensive and categorized objects. There will be no restriction on their movements and they will have the authority to command the Auror force at will. All departments under the Ministry of Magic would be obliged to assist them in their investigative process without any bureaucratic hindrances. This force will be called the _Stinging Serpents (SS)_, and will be headed personally by me. And lastly and most importantly, the SS will be free to use the Unforgivable Curses in combat."

The entire Council was stunned at this. Never before had anyone suggested the use of the Unforgivable Curses. Till date, it was one of the most daring and dangerous propositions put forth in front of the Wizengamot.

The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot was the first to speak, "Are you completely out of your mind? You expect Aurors to be allowed to use the Unforgivable Curses? And you want the High Council to sanction this blasphemy? It is completely unacceptable!"

One by one the members spoke their mind. They weren't even paying heed to Ignatius. It was almost as if they were gossiping amongst themselves, condemning the proposition with the finest choice of words.

Ignatius looked at the Council with élan. He had almost expected this kind of reaction, yet he was surprised to see it coming. He was about to raise his hand, to make his statement when another high pitched voice spoke,

"That is a very interesting plan you've got, Ignatius. You want to fight fire with fire. You want to save the lives of your fellow men, don't you? A fighting force like that could solve a lot of problems. But, unfortunately for you, such a force can prove to be the greatest liability to us. You see, there is no guarantee of control here. We do not wish to end one enemy and give birth to another. Besides, what message would we be sending to the Wizarding world? Our civilized world is based on principles of justice and equality. We cannot abandon our character. We cannot become Murderers!"

To this Ignatius replied, "Your insight is very profound, Lord Abraxas Malfoy. However the people we deal with here cannot be forgiven. They do not have souls, and hence do not deserve the compassion of our hearts. They were nonchalant about spreading their message of fear and hatred amongst the masses, my Lord, and it is our principles of tolerance that have allowed them to succeed so far. My people have already lost their lives, my Lord, just because they swore to uphold the principles that we pride ourselves on. What is the idea of forming such principles, if there is no one left to follow them?"

After that speech, the council members went into a profound discussion. It seemed they were weighing the matter very delicately. It took some time before they would come to their decision.

Ignatius looked as impassive as before, but his heart was pounding heavily.

Seeing Ignatius, the Minister said, "Say, Auror Prewett, why don't you go to your office and await our decision there."

The Minister's tone was more authoritative than suggestive, and so Ignatius gladly left the Council to their own and made way to his office. He sat down on his chair and folded his hands. He looked at the sandglass, for all he had to do was to wait.

After an hour or so, Albus Dumbledore arrived at Ignatius' office. Ignatius stood up to address him, and looked towards him in anticipation.

He spoke, "You made a very bold proposition back there, Prewett. I know why you insisted on such draconian powers to be given to your force. You suspect that the problem is from the ministry itself, don't you? Well I do not know whether our decision is right or wrong, but it has been made. Only god can save us, if we are wrong."

Ignatius braced his heart. He just wanted Dumbledore to tell him the final decision once and for all.

Dumbledore opened a scroll and read from it,

"In light of the arguments put forward by you and after carefully studying your request, the High Council of Wizengamot has decided to decline your request. You are hereby forbidden to utilize any ministerial resources towards the construction of any such force without explicit permission from the High Council. Moreover, your executive powers are now subjected to scrutiny by the Minister's office. This is the High Council's official statement to Auror Ignatius Prewett, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement."

Ignatius said nothing. He didn't even move.

After a while Dumbledore spoke, "I am really sorry, Prewett. Things have not gone as you may have planned. But I implore you not to lose hope."

And after saying that, Dumbledore left.

Ignatius Prewett smiled as he saw the scroll left behind by Dumbledore. The outcome was exactly what he had anticipated.

The sandglass had emptied itself. Now the real thing was about to begin.


	4. The Informant's Tale

**Disclaimer: **Heck I couldn't get JKR to give me the rights to Harry even under the Imperius curse!! So I guess it's still hers! :(

**Chapter 4**

**The Informant's Tale**

_A few months before the prophecy_

The Riddle Manor was home to a lot of dark and dangerous visitors, all servants of the host of the house, Lord Voldemort. Everyday several Death Eaters made their way in or out of the manor. It was their hideout, the headquarters of their operations and the temple of their god.

However it was not a place that could be easily found, for it was placed under a Fidelius charm. And lord Voldemort had further fortified it using the dark arts. Only those who passed the test of loyalty could enter the manor. As of those who failed, they didn't live to get a second chance.

But before all of this began, the Riddle Manor was quite a respectable household in the wizarding world. A pride that was once there had now been lost. The Manor no longer felt its soul.

For generations, Riddle manor was served by a family of elves that had come from France. The last of them, Perry, served the Riddle Manor since Voldemort's grandfather. He was an old elf and a very loyal one too. He never spoke anything, but simply took orders and obeyed them.

But ever since Lord Voldemort, the last existing Riddle, came to live in the Riddle Manor, life was hell for the poor elf. He was summoned for every bit of work and he exerted both his strength and magical powers beyond his age. But what was worse was that Lord Voldemort had no love towards him, unlike his predecessors, and treated him as refuse.

Perry never thought of living separately from his masters. He never had felt the need for it. But Voldemort's activities were driving him to despair. He hadn't known of a bigger misfortune than this befalling the Riddle Manor in ages.

"Come here Perry! You filthy elf!" bellowed Bellatrix Lestrange's voice.

Perry obediently arrived before Madam Black with a small pop. On Voldemort's orders, he was supposed to consider her his Master too.

"There is a congregation tonight. Master wishes to unveil a new plan to his servants. He wants you to take care of them when they arrive. He has already summoned them."

Perry looked at Madam Bellatrix. An elfish eye never forgets anything. He bowed to her to accept her orders. He left again with a small pop.

Perry saw everything. He knew of his Master's plans. He knew the Death Eaters and their names. He knew the evil things they did. He knew a lot of things he wasn't supposed to know.

But Perry never spoke anything to a soul. An elf seldom feels lonely. But Perry was different. He felt very gloomy and sad. After taking care of all the guests who were summoned tonight, Perry went to the small room by the terrace. It was usually locked and contained the portraits of former Masters of the house.

Voldemort had never come here, for he despised even their presence. But poor Perry would go here at times, to talk to the portraits. This night he decided that he would stay in that very room, surrounded by all his former masters. Perry felt an odd pleasure in being next to the people he actually cared of.

A couple of hours had passed, when suddenly the door to the portrait room blasted open. Bellatrix stood there, wand in hand and furious as a gale storm. Perry turned around and looked into her furious eyes.

"Here you are, you miserable wrench of an animal! What do you suppose you are doing? Why haven't you answered master's summons?"

Perry looked at her plainly. He had no clue that his master had summoned him. It was strange he thought, but for some reason he couldn't feel the bond between him and his current master.

Bellatrix walked up to Perry and dragged him by his hands. It was an odd sight, like a furious mother taking her naughty child away. If Perry wanted he could have broken free, but she was one of his masters and he didn't want to do anything rash.

Bellatrix lead him straight to the ground floor, where Voldemort was seated in the centre and all around his followers were standing. When Perry arrived there, he saw a gruesome sight.

There were four mutilated bodies lying in front of Voldemort, and blood was spilled all over the place. The wands of these wizards lay around their bodies at some distance, some broken and some still clenched in decapitated hands.

The Master and his minions had murdered a couple of Muggle born wizards for amusement. Two more crouched some distance away, bound and gagged. Voldemort unhooked them and signaled them to come closer. Their wands lay down a few feet away from Voldemort. All they had to do was to get their wands and attack him, for he was wandless.

While one stood petrified, unable to move, the other decided to take his chance. He ran with all his might and picked the wand and pointed it towards Voldemort. But before he could attack, a variety of spells flew in from all directions and hit him. Before he knew, his body was splintered into a thousand pieces.

The Death Eaters let out a loud round of laughter. Voldemort pointed his icy fingers towards one of them and said, "That was the best spell used this round!" And they all let out another high pitched laughter.

Bellatrix interrupted, "Here master, here is the filthy creature!"

Voldemort looked towards Bellatrix gravely. The laughter subsided immediately and there was pin drop silence. Voldemort looked at Perry, and his eyes grew red with rage.

In his cold and deep voice, Voldemort spoke, "Where were you, Perry? You know that I despise people who do not answer my summons"

Perry said nothing but looked straight with his old, silent eyes.

Seeing his silence, Bellatrix replied, "I found him in that old room by the roof!"

Voldemort looked at Bellatrix once and then faced his followers, "Look! The elf has a friend. Meet Bellatrix Lestrange, friend of elves!"

Laughter erupted once again. Everyone was having the time of their lives. Bellatrix boiled over, "Shut up you measly fools. I have been looking over this wretched thing all over the place for the past two hours!"

Her words produced no effect but instead increased their pitch.

Bellatrix became completely insane, "Keep quiet or I will hex every one of you!"

But no one seemed to listen. Then with one swish movement of the hand, she pointed her wand randomly towards the crowd and cried,

"Avada Kedavra"

The crowd became silent. No one moved. Bellatrix looked everywhere furiously with her eyes. But somehow her spell didn't work. She couldn't understand what happened. She looked towards the crowd, who were staring over her shoulder.

As she turned back, she saw Lord Voldemort standing there with her wand in his hand. He gave her a cold stare and said, "Never ever do that again!"

Then he handed her wand back and took his seat again. There were a few moments of silence. No one spoke a word. Then Voldemort looked towards Perry. He stared at him for a few moments.

Voldemort spoke with his cold voice, "Come here, Perry."

Perry obeyed his master. He came near to him and bowed before him.

"Did you just see what happened here? You caused all this trouble. And so for it, you will have to pay."

Perry did not respond, but looked towards his master with empathy.

"Bellatrix, take this creature out of my sight and make sure he does not dare disobey me again!"

Once again Perry felt himself dragged by Bellatrix. He never stopped looking at Voldemort, all along the way. He knew he was going to be tortured again. But still there was an odd gleam in his eyes.

An elfish eye never forgets.


End file.
